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Thirteen Years

On February 2, my family and I remembered our son Zachariah who was stillborn thirteen years ago. The notes, flowers, and words of comfort we continue to receive from friends and family are precious. Thank you. When people were reminded that it has been thirteen years, often they’d say, “Oh, he would have been a teenager.” Painful words of what is not to be. It is hard to grasp his absence. I try to find comfort in holding his presence. Words failed me more often than not this weekend. In his memory, I dedicate this poem.

Thirteen Years

Fresh snow covers the earthSwallowing roads in white.No need waiting till a path clearsMy heart knows the way after thirteen years.

Finding a grave covered in snowWith every step, new footprints show.

Falling to my kneesBreathing tender cold,Empty arms extendingWith only a flower to hold.

Tenderly brushing until his name shows.Kissing petals of a yellow rose.